


Paid In Full

by asarcasticwitch



Series: Teen Wolf Bingo [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Exchange of Services, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Rimming, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Under-negotiated Kink, Virgin Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29861298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asarcasticwitch/pseuds/asarcasticwitch
Summary: It all started with his Jeep.Long story short, it broke down—for about the eighth time in the last month, but he’s not salty about it—and Derek paid for the repairs after Stiles unwittingly griped about not being able to afford it right now. It was just a flyaway comment, grumbled under his breath as he stared dejectedly at the billows of smoke pouring from his engine.The Alpha heard him—because of course he did. Everybody knows it’s only on special occasions that Stiles is allowed to stand back and watch in peace as his life crumbles down around him.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837195
Comments: 30
Kudos: 228
Collections: Teen Wolf Bingo





	Paid In Full

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the 'Stiles' Jeep' square on my Teen Wolf Bingo card.
> 
> I've tagged under-negotiated kink as Derek does take control and orders Stiles on what to do, but rest assured, Stiles is one-hundred percent into it. I have tried my best to make this obvious in Stiles rambling inner thoughts, but I just wanted to clarify that everyone here is totally consenting; it's just that nothing has been discussed beforehand.
> 
> I haven't tagged for spanking, but Derek does give Stiles a quick smack in reprimand towards the end. I just wanted to make people aware, so it wasn't a surprise.
> 
> A huge thank you to [Shey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shey) for being my extra pair of eyes and beta-ing for me. I really appreciate it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It all started with his Jeep.

Long story short, it broke down—for about the eighth time in the last month, but he’s not salty about it—and Derek paid for the repairs after Stiles unwittingly griped about not being able to afford it right now. It was just a flyaway comment, grumbled under his breath as he stared dejectedly at the billows of smoke pouring from his engine.

The Alpha heard him—because of course he did. Everybody knows it’s only on special occasions that Stiles is allowed to stand back and watch in peace as his life crumbles down around him. Derek insisted he’d take care of it. He vaguely explained that it was a wolf thing, providing for his pack or some shit. Stiles was a little too preoccupied to catch the exact details, but, in the end, he reluctantly gave in.

He really did need his Jeep fixed after all.

The man refused repayment in the form of cash—no matter how strongly Stiles insisted, the stubborn mule wouldn’t budge—so Stiles asked if there was any other way he could pay him back.

And the Alpha, calm and casual as you may, replied, _'you could let me fuck you.'_

To say Stiles’ brain short-circuited would be the understatement of the century. Standing in front of him was the subject of every single one of his fantasies since he was seventeen; add a laid-back proposition for sex into the mix, and it’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t just keel over like one of those fainting goats right there.

Derek, his face stoic, blank as a sheet, shrugged his shoulders for effect, as if his suggestion was, “I dunno, buy me a coffee?” instead of _'let me put my nine-inch, beer-can thick cock inside your tight virgin ass_. _'_

(Okay, not in so many words, obviously, but Stiles’ fantasies might have been bleeding into reality a little.)

He’ll absolutely deny it later, but Stiles leaped across the floor so fast that, for a moment, he swore there was a rocket lodged up his ass. Each of his flailing limbs wrapped around the Alpha’s body, instinctively trusting the man to catch him. Before Derek could utter more than a startled exhale of breath, Stiles gasped out a deadly serious _'no take-backsies',_ then smashed their lips together in a desperate—and way too toothy—kiss.

Somehow, all of that led Stiles here. _Here_ being on his knees in the middle of the loft with Derek’s cock halfway down his throat.

He meant to ask what exactly Derek was getting out of this whole scenario, since it appeared to be slightly _too_ in Stiles’ favor for an exchange of services—but somehow the question slipped his mind. Possibly because Stiles has wanted to climb the Alpha like a tree for longer than he cares to admit to himself, or anyone around him for that matter.

Also, with drool dripping down his chin, Derek panting heavily above him, and moaning out his name like a prayer, he doesn’t have much capacity to think on the technicalities right now.

“Fuck, Stiles, knew your mouth would feel good.”

Stiles’ chest inflates a little, doubling his efforts, suddenly driven with the need to prove to Derek just how good he can be. He gives it everything he has, grabbing hold of the wolf’s jeans—open and pulled halfway down his thighs—for leverage as he swirls his tongue around the head of his cock, cheeks hollowed as he bobs to the rhythm of the rise and fall of Derek’s bare chest.

He’s never done this before, but he’s watched _a lot_ of porn. Not like that can really be used as a basis of comparison to the real thing, he’s not that dumb, but what it did give him was the foundations to which he can build upon. He knows to hook his lips over his teeth, breathe through his nose, and not overestimate his abilities and attempt to swallow it whole. The rest, he just makes up as he goes along.

If the way the muscles in Derek’s abdomen are rippling and the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides is anything to go by, Stiles reckons whatever he’s doing is working to its desired effect.

“Stiles,” Derek groans, hand thrusting out, fingers threading through his hair, using the tight grasp to pull Stiles back and off his cock in one swift movement.

Stiles whines as the man’s length slides past his lips, a wet trail following behind as it springs up to smack against the wolf’s stomach. Stiles only just resists the urge to rip his head away from Derek’s clutch to bury his face in the thick nest of coarse hair leading from the Alpha’s belly button down to between his muscled thighs. It’s now glistening, matted and sticky with a mix of saliva and precome, and Stiles just knows the rich, musky scent clinging to those dark curls would drive him delirious if he was able to lean in close enough to take a deep, greedy breath.

“Why’d you stop me?” He looks up at Derek through his lashes, distracting himself from the insistent impulse to dive headfirst into the wolf’s pubes. “Was it okay?”

Derek’s eyes flash scarlet, the fingers in his hair loosening their hold to stroke his scalp placatingly. “It was perfect, Stiles. I just don’t want to come before I get to fuck you.”

Fair. But he wouldn’t have minded the Alpha coming down his throat either; after one teasing taste of the man’s arousal, he suddenly craves the real thing.

Lost in his thoughts, Stiles' eyes drift back downward, staring at the man’s cock as it twitches and leaks. His tongue peeks out to re-wet his lips, gaze following the rivulet of white as it streams down towards Derek’s heavy balls. And fuck, does he want to put them in his mouth, to feel the weight and texture of them against his tongue. To _taste_ them. He wishes he’d thought of it before, took the time to worship them alongside the wolf’s cock. Even if it was just rolling them between his fingers, or holding them in his palm to feel how they tighten as Derek gets closer and closer to coming.

He also can’t seem to shift that deep desire to press his nose against them and—

“Do it.”

Stiles sobers, shaking his head to clear it as his focus snaps up. He gives Derek a confused look, but the wolf doesn’t answer, just places gentle pressure on the back of his head, pulling him closer to the destination he’d been internally waxing poetic about.

Ugh. Of course Derek senses his weird kinks. Kinks he didn’t even realize he had until he got on his knees and came face to face with the utter beauty that is Derek’s dick. He’s never even contemplated the possibility of being aroused at something as simple as scent—especially the scent of musk and sweat. But now, as he’s guided to mere centimeters away from the wolf’s crotch, he can say with absolute confidence that he’d be content to drown in the irresistible nectar that is Eau-de-Derek.

Stiles takes a bone-shuddering inhale, nuzzling against the—softer than it appears—bristle, moaning at the tickle against his cheek and the robust smell now filling his lungs. Underneath the unmistakable scent of arousal, Stiles notices something else that smells familiar. Mint? But also… cucumber? It has to be Derek’s body wash, and _Jesus suffering Christ_ , a cucumber-scented dick really should not appeal to him as much as it does. But as it stands, his cock is dripping into the confines of his briefs, soaking the fabric as the refreshing essence batters every single one of his senses.

He’s never been so turned on in his life.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed,” Derek rumbles after allowing Stiles a few moments of depraved indulgence, voice strained as if struggling for composure.

Stiles doesn’t even take a second to ponder the request, just scrambles to comply with all the grace of a new-born colt. His clothes end up scattered haphazardly around the room. He wonders briefly if he should fold them into a neat pile, but he dismisses that thought as he turns and is greeted with the unfairly gorgeous sight of Derek, now fully naked and prowling towards him.

“Hot damn,” Stiles murmurs, almost swallowing his tongue as he shamelessly ogles the Alpha in all his God-like glory. He’s seen Derek naked before—wolves aren’t exactly shy about nudity—but never in this context. Never with his cock hard and an expression of pure hunger on his perfectly chiseled face.

Derek jerks his chin toward the bed, saying nothing, but somehow Stiles can still hear the command clear as day. He practically flops onto the bed, spreading himself out on his back in the center of the mattress, burying his hands in the bedsheets to stop himself from covering his body under Derek’s assessing gaze.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” the Alpha breathes out, voice pitched so low Stiles believes he hadn’t intended to say the words out loud.

A blush stains Stiles’ cheeks, creeping all the way down to his chest as he soaks up the wolf’s words. “Are you gonna fuck me?” he asks coyly.

“Yes,” the Alpha agrees, crawling up the bed to kneel between Stiles’ legs, movements slow and predatory. He skims his hands lightly over Stiles’ creamy, pale thighs, urging them to open a little wider. Stiles shivers at the touch, the warmth radiating from the man’s palms seeping right into his bones. “But only when I’m ready to.”

“W-when will that be?”

“Patience,” Derek purrs, a deliciously low rumble vibrating under his breath as he leans forward and trails his teeth across Stiles’ collarbone. “I want to see you come on my fingers first. Then maybe on my tongue. I’ll have you writhing beneath me, sobbing for me to fuck you. _Begging_ for it.” The wolf leans towards his ear, lips ghosting teasingly over the lobe as the next words leave his chest behind a hint of a growl. “I’m gonna make sure I’ve milked you for everything you have before my cock goes anywhere near your tight little hole.”

Stiles makes a sound like he’s dying. _Seriously?_ This guy doesn’t say more than a half-assed “hello” on a good day. What the fuck has he been sniffing?

“Y-yes to all of that,” he finally manages to stutter out, swallowing thickly at the growing smirk he can feel tickling against the sensitive spot below his ear.

Derek takes that as the permission it was intended to be and starts laying bruising kisses over his torso, paying extra attention to Stiles’ nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive buds until they harden in his mouth. Stiles arches closer, mewling softly as the wolf bites down, worrying the little reddening peaks between his—thankfully—human teeth.

“Touch yourself,” the Alpha whispers against the tender flesh.

Goosebumps spread over Stiles’ body with the light puff of air. “W-why?”

Derek raises one of his seriously impressive brows. “Because I told you to.”

Stiles opens his mouth to argue—befitting his character—or maybe even to beg for the man to do it himself, he doesn’t rightly know what’s about to leave his mouth. Either way, the words stick like honeycomb behind his teeth at the look the wolf is sending him.

Instead of talking, he jerks his head once in an affirmative. He snakes his hand towards his cock, wrapping the digits tentatively around himself, eyes never leaving Derek’s.

The wolf goes back to sucking at his chest, seemingly content with Stiles’ willing obedience.

Stiles gives himself a few languid strokes, thumb swiping through the white beading at the tip as his head lolls back into the soft pillow. He starts off with a steady rhythm, but his burning need for release forces his hand to quicken, movements turning sloppy and uncoordinated, the slick leaking down his length easing the way for the frantic glide of his fingers. The ache in his balls is almost painful as he barrels towards the end embarrassingly fast, that familiar flame rising low in his gut, muscles contracting, back bowing from the mattress, toes curling—

“You’re not allowed to come until I say you can.”

Stiles freezes, extracting his hand from the heated skin of his cock instinctively. Tears gather in the corner of his eyes as he clenches his abdomen, desperately trying—with the sheer strength of every remaining shred of his will—to pull himself back from the edge.

“I didn’t say you could stop either,” Derek whispers against the sensitive skin on his chest.

“But I’m close.”

The Alpha shrugs, continuing with his nipping and biting. “That sounds like a _you_ problem.”

“Derek, I—”

The man cuts him off with a sound that’s pure animal, eyes flashing a dangerous scarlet. “Keep. Going.”

Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat, dick pulsing insistently against his stomach at the dominating tone. If it wasn’t already apparent, he seriously has issues. Laying here, bare and vulnerable, with a werewolf growling orders is something he reckons would make normal people run for the hills, not make every single one of their nerve endings light up with desire.

Well, Stiles has never been known for having much of a handle on his self-preservation instincts, nor could he ever imagine himself being categorized as 'normal'.

Nodding once, Stiles complies, but he keeps the curl of his fingers light. The barely-there friction is enough to tease and keep his cock rock hard between his thighs—not that he needs any more incentive when he has a burning hot Alpha werewolf sucking on his tits—but not enough to get him off.

“Good boy,” Derek praises, and Stiles isn’t exactly sure what for, but he doesn’t dwell on it as in the next second Derek’s bulk is pushing him further into the mattress, and his mouth is being devoured in a searing kiss.

The wolf’s stubble scrapes against his chin as he moves his lips roughly, hungrily consuming every single one of the breaths that leaves Stiles’ lungs, giving him no chance to gasp for air. His chest burns, but he doesn’t care. He’d suffocate if it meant Derek kept kissing him, kept him this close, and devoured him like he can’t get enough.

The rumbling purr vibrating from the wolf’s chest sends a spark of pleasure straight through Stiles, making his cock drip profusely. “Please, Derek.”

“Just wait a little longer for me.” The man rises in one swift movement, leaving the space between Stiles’ legs so he can lean towards the bedside table.

Stiles whimpers at the loss of contact, his free hand reaching out without his permission to beckon the wolf back on top of him.

“I’m just getting the lube, baby.” Derek is back instantly, lacing their fingers together, placing a tender peck on his knuckles. An appeasing gesture. “I’m right here.”

Stiles’ dick twitches at the pet name, breath stuttering at how easy the word rolls of Derek’s tongue. He’d give anything to hear the man say it again, over and over; sing it to him until his voice his hoarse.

“You like that, huh?” Derek urges, squeezing his hand, something akin to pure delight flashing across his face. “You like being my baby?”

Stiles moans, screwing his eyes shut tight as he concentrates on not spilling all over himself, releasing the clutch he has on Derek so he can clasp the sheets.

Fuck werewolves and their superior senses, fuck them all to hell.

“Oh, don’t be like that, baby.”

 _Shit,_ did he say that out loud?

Derek chuckles—a rich and beautiful sound that is just not fucking fair—as he quickly picks out something from his top drawer, taking up his original position before Stiles can even blink his lids back open again.

The Alpha discards the clear bottle in his palm among the sheets. Dropping to his hands, he crawls up Stiles’ body until he’s hovering over him, boxing him in. “My senses help gauge your reaction to everything I’m doing to you, every blip in your heartbeat, every change in your scent.” Derek dips forward, nosing at the crook of Stiles’ neck, breathing in his scent to emphasize his point. “It’s also useful for stopping you just as you get too close to the edge.” The man moves back, grinning devilishly, and Stiles is confident a strong wind could tip him over that cliff right now.

“Please,” he mewls, hand still moving on his cock. He’s honestly shocked that he’s lasted this long, but if Derek keeps looking at him like that—like he wants to devour him—that might just change.

“I’ve got you.” Derek picks up the bottle, opening the cap and coating his fingers in the slick.

Stiles watches, mesmerized at how the cool gel clings to the wolf’s thick fingers as he warms it between the digits.

“Spread your legs wider for me.”

Stiles does, exposing himself completely to the Alpha. Derek rumbles in satisfaction, tracing one of his slick fingers around Stiles’ hole, eyes glowing red as Stiles clenches at the unfamiliar touch. He’s not sure if Derek is teasing him or just getting him used to the sensation, but what Stiles _is_ sure of is that he’ll die if he doesn’t get the man’s fingers in his ass right this sec—

“Fuck,” he gasps as Derek slides one finger straight in to the knuckle.

Screw what Derek said about wolf-senses. The dude is definitely reading his thoughts. Or, okay, maybe Stiles is just babbling out loud again. Honestly? Neither of those options would shock him at this point.

Derek lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re so fucking tight,” he mumbles, jaw clenching as if he’s the one lying here being taken apart.

“Derek, I need—”

“I know what you need, baby; just let me take care of you.” He pulls his finger almost all the way out, and Stiles has a complaint on his tongue about how that is _not_ what he needs when, suddenly, two fingers are pushing past that taut ring of muscle, and every thought he’s ever had flies away with his trembling breath.

The stretch aches for a moment, but it’s a good ache, one that has him subconsciously lifting his hips off the mattress to rock eagerly onto Derek’s fingers, urging the man to speed up his glacial pace.

Derek doesn’t let him take charge for long, his free hand gripping his hip to keep him firmly against the bed. “Greedy boy,” he whispers fondly as he starts moving his hand with a little more purpose, twisting and scissoring.

It’s still not enough.

Stiles groans, frustrated. He wants to come. He _needs_ to come. But the wolf seems to be content in torturing him, dragging it out until he’s unable to string together a coherent thought.

“Stop your pouting,” Derek huffs, amused. “I’ll get you there.”

“In this century?”

Derek chuckles, and for some reason, that light puff of air has Stiles’ face dropping, throat clicking as he swallows thickly. “Such a brat.” The Alpha bats his hand away from his cock and laces their fingers together, then pins Stiles' hand down beside his head. “Let’s see if you can come with just my fingers, huh?”

Stiles only has a moment to process the Alpha’s words before he abruptly changes the pace, fucking into Stiles with the clear purpose of watching him fall apart at the seams. Stiles throws his head back, mouth hanging open as Derek plunges in deep, filling him completely. Derek’s fingers are so much thicker than his own, and at this angle, he can reach all those deliciously sensitive places that make stars dance in his peripheral vision.

He feels like his body is on fire, heat coursing through his veins with every curl. It's maddening and without a hand on his cock he feels so close, yet so far away; he needs friction, something else to push him towards the precipice.

His muscles clench wildly, his hips wriggling uselessly under Derek’s strength. He tries his best to just _feel_ , concentrating on the sensation of fullness as his rim stretches to accommodate another digit. Electricity sparks through him every time the man grazes over his sweet spot, teasing the little bud until he’s close to crying.

Sweat soaks Stiles’ heated skin, and Derek’s tongue flicks into the pool gathering in his clavicle. A primal growl echoes from between sharpened teeth when Derek raises his head.

Stiles thinks he might just burst into flame.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Stiles, all quivering and desperate,” Derek rasps through his fangs, eyes never leaving his face. “The noises you make, the way you smell, how you _taste_ … fuck, you’re so perfect for me.”

“Please, let me come, please,” Stiles sobs, tears clinging to his lashes as he scrunches his eyes closed, fat droplets tracking down his cheeks. He begs with every ounce of air left in his lungs. His free hand grasps the sheets to the point of his knuckles going numb, the other—still entwined with Derek's—clings with all the strength he can muster.

He opens his eyes, his vision blurry, hoping the look on his face conveys his desperation. But he could also just look manic. At this moment, he doesn't have the brain function to know the difference.

Derek chuckles darkly, the puff of air tingling against his lips. “I love it when you beg." He nuzzles their noses together, and Stiles is sure he's going to have to plead his case some more, but then— “Alright… be my good boy and come for me. Let me feel you, baby, come on.”

As if Derek’s words are hardwired straight to his dick, Stiles comes hard, a broken wail ripping from his throat. His back bows off the mattress, every single muscle in his body constricting as he paints his stomach.

He's overwhelmed with sensation, goosebumps tingling over his skin, an earth-shattering sense of relief flooding through him as he convulses and shakes, mouth gaping but nothing coming out.

He's convinced he may even stop breathing.

"That's it, baby, that’s it." Insistent fingers guide him through it, keeping pressure on that little bundle of nerves until he whines with overstimulation, his cock twitching and spent.

Stiles falls boneless onto the mattress, panting heavily as the aftershocks taper away to nothing. Derek lowers himself onto the bed next to him, hand threading through his hair as his eyes flutter closed to bask in the afterglow.

~

Stiles comes back to coherency a little while later—it could be minutes, it could be hours, he has no clue. What he does know, is that there's still a very naked werewolf lying beside him, stroking the damp hair at his forehead.

A few more blinks get him back into the room, and his ears pick up the purring sounds leaving the Alpha's throat. It's comforting, and Stiles can’t help smiling dopily at the man.

Derek smiles back, something small and fond, and Stiles just knows his heart skips a beat at the gesture.

He tears his eyes away, distracting himself from complicated emotions. That's when he becomes aware of something not so pleasant. He grimaces as he looks down at his belly and chest.

Cooled down jizz is really not hot.

"Don't worry, I'll clean you up,” Derek breaks the silence, voice low and smooth, the corner of his mouth curling higher. “I just didn’t want to leave until you were back with me."

"That's—" _Really sweet_ , he wants to say, but he doesn’t want his mind to start wandering too far down a path with an inevitable dead end. "Er, thanks."

Derek nods, and then he just... _stares_ , an expression on his face that Stiles can't quite decipher. It makes him a whole lot anxious, but before he can shy away, Derek speaks again. “Before this goes any further, I just wanted to say, consider your _debt_ paid in full.”

Stiles' eyebrows crease in confusion, the cogs in his fucked-out mind needing a few seconds to align. “B-but you haven’t fucked me?”

“Not yet, I haven’t, but I’d like to do that without your overactive brain interpreting it as an ‘exchange of services’.”

Stiles tries to rise from the mattress, but his body isn't cooperating, so he just turns more fully to the Alpha, arms gesturing wildly—as they do when his mouth runs a mile a minute. "W-wait a second—I’m honestly failing to see how this benefitted you in any way? Wasn’t that the whole point? You paid to fix my Jeep, so I should give you something in return? That’s how an exchange of services works, dude.”

Derek gives him a dry look. His hand stops its gentle pets and Stiles almost whines at the loss; he'd been unwittingly leaning into the contact. It was really fucking soothing, okay?

“I just had my fingers in your ass, don’t call me _dude_. And I told you I didn’t want anything, but you kept going on about it. I have no need for your money, Stiles. I’m your Alpha. It’s up to me to take care of the pack's needs. You’re the smart one, you should know that. Christ, I even _told_ you that.”

Stiles tries not to react to the man calling himself _his Alpha,_ as well as the casual praise, but the way his dick twitches and his heart stumbles over itself probably gives him away.

And yeah, Stiles does vaguely remember Derek mentioning something along those lines, but the prospect of getting dicked took over his sensibilities. “I do know that, but it’s the principle, du—”

Derek glares, cutting him off. Stiles grins awkwardly and the Alpha’s expression softens. Though, his eyes appear to twinkle with heat. “And besides, seeing you fall apart because of me was better than any repayment you could have offered, Stiles. I’ve wanted for longer than I care to admit to have you in my bed, to see you shatter and beg for me.”

“Sweet Christ,” Stiles breathes out, his cock fighting valiantly to chub up again. That's when the implication behind Derek's words hits him fully. “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve wanted me for— Derek!” Stiles squawks as he’s flipped onto his stomach.

And fuck, manhandling is another thing to add to his ever-growing list of kinks he’s discovered from this one encounter.

“Talk later.” Derek kisses down his spine, mouthing sloppily over each bump.

“Seriously?" Stiles huffs, but any irritation he may have felt fades into the void with every touch. Talking later sounds totally reasonable. "You are unbelie—" he stops his affectionate murmur short as Derek's hands spread his ass cheeks and hot breath fans over his hole. "What are you doing?”

“I did say I wanted you to come on my tongue before I fucked you. I wasn’t joking.”

Stiles scoffs. “God forbid you ever tell a joke— Ow," he yelps as Derek gives him a short, quick smack on his right ass cheek. He twists his head over his shoulder to glare at the wolf. The smug fucker is smirking at him from where he's nibbling at the reddening mark, probably having smelt the spike in Stiles' arousal.

_Bastard._

“Behave, or I’ll keep you on the edge until morning, and don’t think I won’t."

Stiles groans at the raw power in Derek's voice. Fuck, how can one man be so attractive? It’s unfair. “Ugh. Go on then, have at me.” Stiles waves his hand in the vague direction of the wolf, resting his head heavily on his elbows, only to shoot up again just as quickly, his eyes widening at the first broad lick across his hole.

It's an entirely new sensation—wet and a little rough but not at all terrible. Embarrassing maybe—having the wolf's face and nose all up in _there_ is sorta making him want to squirm—but he's one hundred and fifty percent sure he'll get over it. Especially with how the Alpha moans loudly into the sensitive skin, his talented tongue lapping at him like he can't get enough of the taste.

It all started with his Jeep, and, at this moment, Stiles is pretty sure it’s gonna end with his death. But, hey, what a way to go? 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I need to tag anything else or add any more warnings.
> 
> I wanted to write something where Derek is a little more dominating, 'cause quite honestly, I think it's hot as fuck. I think all the Sterek I've written so far is a little more loving, or at least ended with lovey-dovey love confessions, so I fancied a different scenario. I am still imagining the love confessions happening in the morning, but I'm just letting the boys get everything out of their systems first. Kay?
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at [asarcasticwitch](http://asarcasticwitch.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always much appreciated and they keep me going. Thank you for reading!


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